Wines, Lines, and Dimes
by yoho-hey
Summary: Sometimes things can get a little chaotic when Lara is working. Oneshot. Set before the events of the game.


Wines, Lines, and Dimes

* * *

It wasn't a surprise that I happened to receive yet _another _call from my manager saying there was an additional late shift waiting for me at the bar. It was a miracle I even got the job a few months ago in the first place, considering the positions were basically full but somebody happened to quit right as I came in. Fortunately, bar-tending was the only job I worked at the time since it was the middle of spring break, and the word 'break' kind of implied that I didn't need to work three jobs at the same time, so it's not like I had anything to complain about.

The pub that I worked in was fairly small, and basically consisted of a bar area and a dancing area. Although most people usually just chatted in a circle and swayed around with a drink in one hand, unless they were _really _drunk, which tonight there seemed to be a lot of. It was _unreasonably_ dark in my opinion and had dim luminescent lighting that made everyone's skin look blue.

A man on the far end of the long counter raised his hand and made eye contact with me, flagging my attention. When I saw him, I immediately rushed over to his service. "Hi, what can I get for you?" I asked him as politely as I could, trying to plaster a continuous smile.

I had to slightly lean over the counter to hear him over all the noise. "Yeah, can I get a Bloody Mary?" He asked, although it was technically a demand.

"Sure thing." I said, and immediately turned around to grab the shaker from the counter behind me, collecting the ingredients from the shelves, as well.

I could hear bass music and the loud chatting of what seemed like everyone in the building. Being open 24 hours, it was especially crowded tonight since it was late on a saturday, although I should say _morning_. And as if it wasn't hard enough serving a crowded bar, I could barely even keep myself from tripping on my own two feet or simply fainting from the heat and running back and forth at the same time.

Stepping into the back, I collected the ice cubes from the freezer and threw them in the shaker after the vodka and the Worcestershire and tomato sauce. Then, as I made my way back to the counter I topped it with pepper and lime juice before placing the lid and shaking vigorously over my shoulder.

I soon spotted a girl supporting herself on her elbows and leaning over the counter with her card in her hand that she was using to fan herself. She was blonde, and looked awfully young to me. I stepped toward her while still shaking the drink, but slower so I could hear her.

I didn't even have to say anything because the moment she saw me, she asked, "Can I have a whiskey?" Something about her voice annoyed me.

I set the shaker down and answered her question with a question. "May I say your I.D. please?" I asked before pulling out a martini glass from the freezer underneath the counter in front of me, then quickly poured the cocktail in it.

I caught a slight roll in the girl's eyes that I was sure wasn't meant to be seen by me, before she began scouring through her wallet for her I.D. card.

"There you are, sir." I presented the drink to the man and placed it in front of him, taking the cash that he had left on the counter. He was chatting with a buddy next to him and didn't give me so much as a 'thanks', but then lifted the glass and took a big gulp after noticing it was there.

Shortly after, the girl silently handed her identification to me and I skimmed over it, seeing that she was actually a few years older than I was, but she didn't look it at all.

Without a word, I handed it back to her and grabbed a whiskey bottle from the rack behind me. "Bottle or glass?" I asked her.

She gazed at nowhere in particular for a few moments and I could see her chewing on the inside of her mouth. "Glass." She said, and I immediately bent down to grab one from underneath the counter in between us.

When I gripped the glass, it ended up slipping out of my hand and I accidentally knocked over another one in result. I caught it, but the other one shattered at my feet. I didn't think anybody could have heard it though because it was already so loud in the pub. "Shit." I muttered frustratingly under my breath. I was hoping the girl wasn't watching me and getting impatient, so I glanced up at her while still knelt on the ground. She was talking to some other people who I assumed were her friends, and I exhaled with relief.

Ignoring the shattered glass and hoping that no other bartenders would walk over it, my hands stumbled as I poured the whiskey for her. After she made her payment, I handed it to her with a polite smile glued on my face.

"Thanks." She said, and turned away while barely making further eye contact with me.

"You're welcome." I told her, although I was sure she didn't hear me.

Then, I remembered the glass at my feet when I thought I heard it crumble under my shoes for a moment. After grabbing a cloth that was settled right next to me on the counter, I knelt down again and tried to collect all the pieces with the rag in between my hands and the glass so I didn't cut myself. I was biting my bottom lip anxiously the whole time, hoping that no customers were waiting or that anybody was watching me.

God, it was _so _hot. I thought I could actually _smell_ my own sweat beaming off me, and it was disgusting. Being as close to the floor as I was now, I didn't realize how filthy it was either.

A figure quickly knelt down next to me and I soon realized it was another one of the bartenders. As much I as I knew about her, her name was Jenna and I had briefly spoken to her a few times while working here. "I got it." She told me reassuringly and I let the cloth slip out of my hand as she took it.

I honestly felt bad for letting her clean up my own mess, but it was extremely busy and we all had much work to do, so I didn't really have the time to even worry about. I stood up and put my hands on my lower back. It was starting to feel sore. "Thanks," I said simply. And I really _was_ thankful.

When I had lifted my head and turned around again, a man was leaning over the counter right in front of me, reading over the menu. He looked about my age and was wearing a grey hoodie. "Hi," I said, taking a deep breath.

"Hey, do you guys have vodka martinis?" While he was speaking I felt something hit my shoe and I looked down to see Jenna still cleaning the glass at my feet.

"Sorry," She apologized, her face wincing. I quickly looked back up to avoid seeming rude, but the man didn't make eye contact with me until a few moments later.

I took a deep breath and briefly pressed my lips together. "No, we don't. Sorry." I told him apologetically.

I caught him glancing down at me and he had a smug grin on his face. "Too bad," He said, although he didn't seem to sound the least disappointed at all. The expression on his face made it look like he didn't even care about the drink. "You know, you're kinda cute." He said.

Without saying anything, I pursed my lips in annoyance at his comment and looked away, trying not to roll my eyes at a customer. It was awfully hard not to. Don't you have anything better to do, I thought?

"So, how 'bout that drinks of yours?" He continued, twisting his mouth and staring at me.

_'Yours',_ I thought. "Forget it." It was as if he was trying to make his expression look pitiful, which only made me want to roll my eyes at him more or just simply slap him across the face, even though I couldn't.

In the end, he ended up ordering a beer and I tried not to make any further direct eye contact with him or unnecessary conversation.

Once he was gone, my attention suddenly dragged to the stinging feeling in my eyes from being so tired. It was difficult to keep my eyelids open. It seemed as if about half of the people that were here before migrated to the dance floor, which relieved me and gave me a chance to clean up. So, I didn't hesitate to grab a nearby rag and begin wiping down the counters with it. Trying not to interfere with anybody sitting at the counter, I generously cleaned around them and their plates while apologizing. I also collected a few glasses that had been lying around and put them on the table behind me by the back door for someone to put in the dishwasher.

I hadn't realized I had been slightly drifting off while scrubbing at a particular stain on the counter, until I heard a rather enthusiastic voice somewhere a short distance from me. "That's my queue!" It was another bartender. From what I could see, he had just removed his apron and had his jacket draped over his arm. "See you tomorrow, girl!" He called to me from a short distance with a palm raised in the air.

"Have a good night!" I replied, then returned my attention to the stain. I could hear the loud music around me and bits and pieces of some people's conversations that were close enough to me, not actually paying enough attention to what they was about, though.

A few minutes later, I spotted a slim figure wearing familiar white skinny jeans sit up on the stool in front of me and I looked up. My eyes widened in confusion. "Sam?"

Her face lit up with shock just as much as mine did while she was still trying to get comfortable on the stool. "Oh, hey, Lara!" She greeted, a little too enthusiastically. She made a 'whoo' sound from almost falling over in the chair.

"What are you doing here?" I asked her. The two of us had been renting an apartment for almost a year now, and I was almost sure Sam was sleeping before I left her to come work tonight.

"Oh, I just thought I'd come visit my bestie!" She pinched my arm a little too hard and her nose scrunched up when she spoke. Something told me that wasn't the real reason she was here, though.

"Did you come by yourself?" I asked with concern, although I soon realized there weren't that many other people she could have came here with.

"I sure did!" She beamed proudly, and I could almost hear a faint fake accent when she spoke. It was stupid of me to think that Sam would stay home on a Saturday night and _not _drink, anyway.

I stared for a few moments, trying to read her. "Are you drunk?" I asked, my brows draping.

"Ehh," She shrugged dramatically. "Had a couple of pints." At her answer, I assumed she had been here for a while and I just didn't serve her. It was also very hard to recognize faces in the darkness of the building. "_Speaking_ of, how about..." Her sudden volume made me flinch. She was pretending to think. "a Seven and Seven?" Sam had a smug expression and was raising her eyebrows at me because she was full aware that when I was behind the counter, I had to get her what she wanted.

I made a face, but didn't say anything.

"Make it a double." She finished.

While I prepared it, Sam started to go on about something I wasn't really paying attention to, and when I placed the drink in front of her she immediately took a large sip and then continued to ramble.

Sam was usually hilarious when she got drunk, but sometimes if she drank enough, things could get a little out of hand with her. I had learned that a long time ago. She always tended to do really crazy and rather embarrassing things. I couldn't help but feel like I had to keep an eye on her intake, but it was technically my job to give her what she ordered.

I began to collect more dirty plates and glasses that were laying around and throw the leftover food in the garbage while Sam spoke. Eventually, when I looked up at her again, she was staring at me expectantly and I realized she must have asked me something. "I'm kind of on duty, Sam." I told her softly, trying not to offend her.

Thankfully, she was too drunk to take the slightest offense from it. "Fine, but..." She said carelessly, looking down at my working hands. "Keep 'em coming." She took another big gulp of her drink.

In between serving customers and chatting with Sam, I must have given her at least another three drinks, and I could see the effect rising with every one of them. She suddenly jumped in her seat. "Ooh, this is my jam!" She nearly shouted, although I was beginning to get used to her loudness. I heard the song change and it suddenly seemed louder too, but that was probably just because I was now paying attention to it. "Sorry, Lara, the dance floor's calling me." She quickly threw back her head and finished her glass. "Have fun!"

"I won't!" I called after her jokingly, although it was actually true, but she had ran off quite fast and I don't think she heard me over the music.

As I twisted a rag through an empty beer glass, a man who looked to be in his 40's sat up on one of the stools. He looked absolutely drained and grumpy. He must've known I was just about to ask him what he wanted. "Surprise me." He said with only the slight gesture of his hand.

Since he was looking down at the counter and not at me, I rolled my eyes. "If you don't specify, you're not getting anything." I said firmly, and that was when he finally looked up at me. I glanced behind him and spotted Sam dancing awfully close to a guy that seemed like he was _just _old enough to get into this place, which made me feel a little uneasy.

The man let out an exasperated sigh, clearly not caring if I heard it, and readjusted himself in the seat. I pursed my lips at him, then couldn't help but glance back at Sam. "A beer," He said, and I quickly fetched him the bottle.

God, I was really starting to feel tired, and _so_ sore. My muscles were still tender from a few days ago when Roth took me climbing again. The heat was also giving me a headache, and I hoped it wouldn't get worse.

While I was taking somebody else's order with a pen and notepad in my hand, I kept peeking back and forth from the person to Sam, who I noticed had inched dangerously closer to the guy she was dancing with. I was trying to reduce my head movement so I didn't seem rude to the customer, but it was hard to maintain when I saw Sam hook a firm arm around they guy's neck to kiss him, rather intensely I might add.

My eyes widened and my jaw dropped. My face must've hinted something because the man was gazing at me in confusion, but I quickly repeated his order with a "Right, got it," and then turned around.

I didn't really have the time to gape at Sam and her ridiculous drunk actions, so instead I tried to ignore what I had just seen and get the man his damn order. Ofcourse, making out with some random guy she is dancing with isn't exactly a surprise to me because it is totally something Sam would do, anyway.

Shortly after, Sam came running back to the counter and somehow managed to do it without falling. "Hey, cutie!" She was completely out of breath, and I could see that there was still a dancing sway lingering in her stance. "Gimme a beer, will you?" She began fanning herself dramatically with her hand but ended up just flicking herself in the face a few times. "Ah, fuck it, just give me the bottle."

"Sam, you've already had _three_ beers, a Jack Daniel's, and a _double_ Seven and Seven." I was actually shocked after hearing myself list all of it, also added to the ones I didn't serve her before.

"So?" She asked sharply as if it was no big deal, which to her, it really wasn't.

I ignored it though. "Really, I think you should just go home. I'll come when I'm done-"

"Don't be silly, Lara!" Sam interrupted me and flicked her wrist when she spoke, clearly exaggerating all of her movements. "You don't really expect me to stay home and let you have all the fun, do you?" She positioned herself onto the stool.

I considered explaining to her that I wasn't _actually _drinking, but decided that there was no point in it.

"Aren't I keeping you company?" She continued with a wide grin glued on her face.

I slowly placed the beer bottle in front of her as she was speaking, honestly not wanting to. "Unfortunately, I have a little too much company." I muttered quietly, referring to the large amount of customers there were. But I noticed Sam wasn't listening to me as I had expected, and was instead flooding her mouth with beer.

I watched her throat bob as she swigged down over half of the bottle without an intake of air in between.

When she finally placed it down and wiped across her mouth with her forearm, her eyes widened in pure shock for some reason. "_Oh, my God_!" Sam shrieked and my entire body jolted at the suddenness of it. Before I could ask her what on earth she was talking about, she said, "I haven't seen you in forever! I wanna hug you!" My eyebrows knitted together, I quickly scanned around to try and see who she was talking to, although I was confused because I was behind the counter and there couldn't have been anybody behind me. But, when I looked in front of me again, Sam was leaning toward me with her arms spread out.

At first, I leaned away from her but then very awkwardly patted my palms on her sides as she embraced me. "Okay," I said, chuckling. Then I noticed that she was actually trying and failing to climb over the counter and I gently pushed her back, making a 'whoo' sound. It took a few moments for her to release her grip on me, but she soon sat back down with a satisfied expression and went back to chugging her beer.

I exhaled with relief, but couldn't help the grin creeping on my lips. It was like watching a child. Although I was completely tired, sore, and sweaty, Sam still somehow managed to make me laugh, even if she _was_ completely drunk.

I had begun to dry a couple of recently-washed wine glasses with a clean rag while Sam was silently enjoying her beer. When she was in the middle of a sip, a man who was holding a drink in one hand and looked to be about in his mid-20's approached her from the side. For a moment I thought it was the same guy that was dancing with her earlier, but it wasn't, which in a way relieved me. I couldn't tell if he intended to talk to her or if he was just standing close to her, but Sam had assumed the first possibility. She usually did, anyway.

She turned and gazed up at him with her mouth still against the bottle before setting it down. "Oh, hey!" She licked her lips and rose to her feet. Her greeting made me think twice if it was the same man, but I soon realized that she didn't know him at all and was just being friendly. A little _too _friendly. I mean, you don't exactly _beam_ at strangers like that. Then again, she was drunk.

He looked surprised for a moment which made me think that maybe he wasn't aiming to talk to her, but still didn't push her away. In fact, the shock on his face also looked like it was because _she_ was talking to him.

I was beginning to feel uneasy again, but all I could manage to do was watch.

Sam draped an arm over his shoulder and stepped closer to him. I could see a heavy sway in her hips. "Haven't seen _you _around here before." She murmured to him, and I could see he was inching forward as well. From what I could tell, he wasn't drunk, but clearly knew that she was.

The man mumbled something back to her that sounded like a 'yeah?', but I couldn't really understand him over all the noise.

They smirked at each other for a few moments, before Sam spotted the drink in his hand and reached for it. "Ooh! I'll have some of that."

_That_ was when I finally interjected. I leaned over the counter and let out a fake laugh, gripping the drink before she could raise it to her lips. "I don't think so." I said. The smug grin that had been plastered on the man's face since he got here made me wonder what kind of _drug_ he could have put in there. I mean, he did stand suspiciously close to her in the first place, so maybe he was planning something. I wasn't taking any chances. For once, I thought to myself, thank God I work here.

I let him take the drink back, then made a face at him. "Go flatter somebody else, why don't you?" I told him, hoping to shoo him away already.

His eyebrows raised into his hairline as he stared at me, not saying anything for a while. He looked impressed. "I don't suppose you have any suggestions?" For a brief moment, I saw the tip of his tongue pop out from in between his teeth.

"Don't count on it." I said dismissively, then quickly drew my eyes back to my work without making eye contact with him again.

I could tell he was debating whether or not to listen to me. But, he didn't say anything else and eventually turned and walked away. When he was gone, I glanced up from underneath my eyelashes, smirking.

"Awww..." Sam whined and sat back down again, looking disappointed. "Why would you do that?" The tone of her voice made her sound like a little kid who just missed the ice cream truck. It was kind of hilarious.

My hands were scrubbing at the counter again and I could feel the soreness in my arms tense as I flexed them. "Trust me, you won't remember in a minute." I muttered under my breath without looking up at her.

Then, Sam leaned closer and gripped my chin with one hand, forcefully pulling me toward her. My eyes widened at how close our faces suddenly were. I could almost see my reflection in her brown eyes, and for a moment, I thought she was actually going to kiss me. It _was_ something Sam would do after all, in the state that she was in. She gazed into my eyes for what felt like forever, and I waited to see what she was going to say. "You just like to be a little buzz-kill, don't you?" She shook my chin with her hand when she spoke and I could smell the alcohol on her breath.

I was about to say something or at least pry her fingers off my face but she soon let go and suddenly ran off to the dance floor again. After I noticed I had been staring blankly after her for who knows how long, I sighed loudly and relaxed my body. I didn't know my shoulders and chest had tightened so much.

"Lara!" I heard my name being called and turned my head to see where it came from. My eyes soon focused past a bunch of figures to my manager who had been standing a distance away. He was raising his chin over everyone's head so he could see me. I felt a little embarrassed for a brief moment because there was the possibility that he had been calling me for a while and I didn't hear him. He raised his arm and silently tapped the watch on his wrist. He was also mouthing something to me that I couldn't read.

When my head snapped up to the clock on the wall next to me and I read that it was 1:30 in the morning, I realized that he had been indicating that my shift was over. _Finally_, I thought. Absentmindedly smiling, I nodded at him and then quickly untied the back of my apron and lifted it over my head.

Now, it was all just a matter of getting Sam home.

When I had stepped out from behind the counter, I leaned my back against it and gripped the edge with both my hands. I just wanted to go home, shower, and sleep, so I could finally be rid of the disgusting smell of body odor and alcohol.

My eyes gazed around the room for a few moments before settling on a half full alcohol bottle next to me. I stared at it considerately. There was nobody else at the bar because they had all gone to dance, and I was off-duty now. Most of all, I was just plain stressed. "Ah, fuck it." I muttered, then grabbed the bottle and craned my head all the way back to take a large gulp.

The taste was strong and tangy on my tongue, but I could honestly say that it felt good to have a long-awaited, well-deserved swig. I exhaled loudly and licked my lips, before remembering that a drunk Sam was loose somewhere and I had no choice but to go and get her.

So, I quickly set the bottle back down and trotted over to the group of wasted dancers and ended up shuffling rather slowly instead from the lack of space to walk in. I didn't make eye contact with anybody and held my breath as I pushed my way though the ocean of people so I didn't have to smell them.

I could just _feel_ people staring at me. "Excuse me," I said, but noticed it came out rather quiet and nobody probably heard.

Eventually, I looked up and saw Sam in the middle of a group of fairly young men who all had some sort of drink in their hand. For some reason, she always just stood out in a crowd. Maybe it was her pale white jeans. Something about seeing Sam looking so tiny and feminine in the middle of about ten men made me a little nervous. There was also an old wooden table in the middle of them that I saw they were using for shots. The glasses were all lined up in rows and I assumed that Sam had already taken some. At least she wasn't dancing on top of the table, I thought.

"Sam!" I called, speed-walking toward her.

When she saw me, she gasped and her face lit up for about the hundredth time tonight. "Well, look who decided to show up to the party!" There was still a sway in her stance from dancing and she was holding a drink in one hand.

"That's right," I said reassuringly, figuring again that there was no point in telling her that I wasn't joining any party. "We gotta go home now."

Her beaming face soon turned to confusion and disappointment. "But you just got here!" She said.

I ignored her and gripped her arm. "Come on," I turned around to pull her but she had already shrugged me off. I was really hoping this wasn't going to take too long. I also caught a few of Sam's intimidating drinking buddies staring at me.

"Relax, Lara. Have a drink!" Sam didn't exactly seem upset that I was trying to drag her out because she was still smiling and dancing, she just wanted me to stay. That honestly made me feel good, but I was just too tired to stay in this place any longer.

Attempting to pull Sam by the hand, I was suddenly face to face with some man's chest when I turned around. I took a few steps back, but he just seemed to be inching closer. My heart rate was starting to speed up. He had shaggy brown hair and appeared to be only a few years older than me and Sam. And man, he was tall. "Whoa, you look a little tense." He said with a grin.

I could feel my anger beginning to rise. What _else _could prevent me from leaving this bloody pub? I stared up at him for a few moments with a firm expression, and then attempted to brush past. "Excuse me." I said politely.

Before I barely even took two steps, another man's voice was heard behind me and I turned my head. "The girl's right. What kinda darlin' walks out of a bar without having a drink?" That was all they wanted, I thought? A drink didn't sound too bad, really, but then my eyes dragged over to the shots and I became hesitant.

"I really shouldn't." I told them, shaking my head. But they didn't seem to consider my response at all, and just continued encouraging me.

I transitioned all my weight onto one leg and began brushing my tongue against the inside of my cheeks.

Soon enough, I began to hear manly voices calling at me from all different directions, _chanting_ things like 'come on' and 'do it'. I rolled my eyes and gave them a 'really?' look. Did they seriously want me to take their damn shots or were they just really drunk? I was certain it was both.

Oh god, I thought. Was I actually considering this? I could see Sam in the corner of my eye excitingly waiting for my response. I was so hot, tired, sore, sweaty, and for the second time that night, that was when I said 'fuck it'. I released Sam's hand and began stepping towards the table. As soon as I moved, all the men were basically screaming and pushing each other to get a better view.

I looked down at the table. "All you want is a drink?" I muttered, half to myself and half to everyone else. "I'll give you a drink."

With one quick motion, I threw my head back and gulped down the first glass in a matter of seconds. I didn't think their hollering could get any louder. I was wrong. My face scrunched up at the strong taste, but I quickly threw back another one without thinking about it. I could hear them all cheering loudly around me as I drank one after the other. A couple of them were spilling their beer from the excitement and I felt some splatter on me in a few different directions, but I figured that I was already sweaty and smelt of alcohol so it really didn't matter.

When it felt like the alcohol had filled up all the way up to my throat and I couldn't take anymore, I wiped my mouth and didn't look at anybody except for Sam, who I didn't have to search very hard for. "Alright, that's enough for you _and _me." I said, although I was really only concerned about her. "Come on," I grabbed her hand again and successfully pulled her this time. "You need a nap."


End file.
